QueensQuest

by Suz deMello

  So we camped. Again, a relative statement. My tent was large enough to fit my high platform bed, a smaller cot where Maia rested, and pallets for my guards—usually Rall and Parron. My apparel had been minimized, but still, the tent held the chests and portmanteaux needed to carry various gowns and riding gear. The Queen of Shadow’s appearance was important, as Storne had astutely noted.

  Every morning when I awoke, I stepped onto rugs of woven silk and donned my usual yellow robe. As I breakfasted, I gazed at tapestries draped over the walls of my tent before I bathed and dressed in a riding habit. A smaller, portable version of the Golden Throne sat outside beneath an awning, for in every village, I stopped to greet my people, to provide counsel or render judgment. I gave whatever they required of me.

  We traveled in this manner for a week, until we reached the mountains guarding my southern keep. The passes through these sharp, granite peaks are steep and the highest slopes are dusted with snow at all times. The procession slowed, the taqqa ponderous and the horses picking their way with care along treacherous mountain paths that overlooked narrow iron-gray lakes tucked into the canyons that lay between the ridges. Spiny-needled evergreen trees lined the route, their bright scent perfuming the thin, crisp air.

  Storne met me outside my tent one evening after I had bathed. He cast an amused eye on my attire, a quilted robe and furry slippers. “You are casual, my queen.”

  He wore his blue velvet doublet, a garment I especially liked. I smiled at him. “This is akin to the week-long trips my family would take when we stayed at our southern manor,” I said. “We were less formal when we lived in tents.”

  A campfire crackled a few feet from the open draperies of my tent. Parron tossed a pine cone onto it, and the flames jumped.

  Storne peeked inside the tent, his glance taking in the chests and tapestries. “Yes, I can see you have truly pared down to the essentials.”

  I giggled. “May I offer you a cup of mulled wine?”

  “Gladly, although I am enjoying the brisk air here. It is more like home to me.”

  “You have not been away from the Darkside for long, yet you sound as though you miss it greatly.” I led him into my tent and nodded to Maia, who poured for us.

  “I do. I miss the stars.”

  “Yes, I have heard of them. I am told that after third moonset, they look like a thousand tiny diamonds glittering against the pure blackness of your sky.”

  Maia handed us our cups and then stepped outside to untie the cords that kept the tent flaps open. They dropped together, leaving us alone. I heard footsteps outside crunch on dry branches. Rall and Parron, no doubt, taking their posts, protecting me. A brazier in one corner warmed the tent’s interior, which still smelled pleasantly of my gardenia-scented cologne.

  Storne leaned toward me, eagerness vibrating from every line of his body. “I long to show you our realm, Audryn. I am sure you would love it as much as do we.”

  “It does sound extraordinary.” I touched my cup to his. “To many happy journeys.”

  “Happy journeys together.”

  We sipped wine, looking into each other’s eyes. Wonderful how his cool gray eyes could light with fervor when he spoke of his home.

  He set down his cup and kissed me. His mouth tasted like the mulling spices Maia had used. And warm, too… I ardently sucked his tongue, licked his lips. What was it about Storne? Yes, I liked sex, but I couldn’t get enough of this man.

  I reminded myself to stay in control. I did not wish to be hasty. I knew that Kaldir could satisfy me also, and there was still more information and advantage for the Shadowlands to be won by keeping both Darkside and Light uncertain of my heart.

  In the meantime, nothing stopped me from setting down my wine and sliding my hands into Storne’s hair, fingering the strands while we kissed. His tongue probed and thrust into my mouth, tasting me as thoroughly as I savored him.

  His hand dropped to the gap in my robe to search the valley between my unbound breasts. His fingers, a little rough from the days of riding, stroked my sternum, finding the chain that held the ruby Kaldir had given me. “I am not sure I like you wearing this jewel.”

  I pressed my lips together to hide a smug grin. Playing my suitors against each other pleased me greatly. I told myself that this was politics, not ego, while disbelieving my own thoughts, for I could not help enjoying my rivals’ jealousy. I said, “You well know that it is diplomatic for me to do so.”

  “Ride with me tomorrow.”

  I hesitated. “I have never mounted a taqqa. They are large beasts—what if I can’t control mine?” I had seen taqqa trample unskilled riders beneath their great hooves.

  “You’ll be with me, on my steed. You’ll be fine.”

  * * * * *

  Early the next morning, prior to first moonrise, I was awakened by voices outside my tent.

  “How does the queen abide?” Storne asked.

  “She has been alone except for her handmaiden Maia since you left, my lord.” Parron, sounding unusually respectful.

  My interest and temper were piqued. Parron was supposed to be my man, all the way. Why was he reporting to Storne?

  Branches crunched beneath booted heels as I heard both men stride across the clearing. I heard the jingle of spurs. Storne’s, I was sure. No spurs are needed with our horses, but taqqa have thick hides and the Darksiders wear spurs.

  “The wind is mild, the weather fair,” Storne said. “The queen shall ride with me today.”

  I sat up in bed, furious. How dare he?

  Then I remembered that I had already agreed to this plan.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Parron said. The heavy flaps securing my tent rustled as they were drawn apart.

  A moment later, Maia entered. “Lord Storne seeks audience.”

  “So I hear.” My tone must have been sharper than usual, for she cast a narrow glance at me. I ignored it, but when Storne entered, I barked, “Explain yourself.”

  His gaze held mild interest. “What do you mean?”

  “Parron is my guard, not yours. Why does he now report to you?”

  “Perhaps he sees which way the wind is blowing.” Storne sat on my bed. His chainmail jerkin rang softly.

  Not good enough, I thought. “As far as Parron is concerned, the wind blows from whatever direction I say it does.”

  “Fear not. Parron loves you. He would give his life for you. He merely anticipates your needs, as a good retainer must.”

  “My needs?” I was rigid with fear and fury. I would not be chased into any decision, not by Storne, Parron, Maia or even my own desires.

  “Parron’s a soldier. He’s looking at the situation as a soldier must. As you should.”

  I bridled. “How do you know what I must do?”

  “Simple military analysis.”

  “Nothing about statecraft is simple. Why should I endure a snake in my nest?”

  “Neither Parron nor I are snakes, but even if we were, it wouldn’t matter. A great sage of old Terra put it best. He said, ‘I’d rather have my enemies inside the tent pissing out rather than outside my tent pissing in’.”

  I chuckled despite my bad temper. “Who said that?”

  “An American emperor named Landon Johnton.”

  “Landon Johnton?”

  “Yes. He created many clever rules of statecraft.”

  “Like what?”

  “A leader’s greatest task is not to do what is right but to know what is right.”

  I frowned and Storne reached out a gentle hand to smooth the furrow between my brows. Nevertheless I said, “I do not agree. Why should anyone care what I think as long as my policies are successful?”

  “Precisely the reason we should marry.”

  “What?”

  He gave me his slow, sexy smile, the one that promised total fulfillment, but said, “That we want and appreciate each other is beside the point. It is best for both our kingdoms and for Janus as a whole.”

  “The Children of L
ight may not agree.”

  “They may not believe that our union is positive for them until they see the benefits, which may take years to reach fruition.”

  I hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about. “What do you plan?”

  “Landon Johnton wanted to bring peace to his world and believed, as you do, that it would not be accomplished unless and until all peoples knew each other better. Why else have you set out on this Progress?” He leaned toward me and I became aware that nothing but a thin linen sheet separated my naked body from Storne’s armored, weaponed self. He continued, “You could have married, and married well, from within Shadowland nobility. And yet you did not, because you knew that you had an obligation, and not only to Shadow.”

  “Yes,” I said, ruminating. “I hold the Balance and so must consider the needs of all.”

  “Landon Johnton wanted to bring peace to all and to feed the hungry all over Terra. He talked also of the importance of balance between population and resources.”

  “Fortunately we do not face that issue.” I sighed and swung my legs over the side of my bed, reaching for my yellow robe. “For us, the issue is bringing the resources to those who need them. Food to your people and the Lightsiders. Darkside mineral wealth to the rest of Janus. Landon Johnton sounds like a great leader.”

  “More potential than reality, I’m afraid. He entangled his nation in a fruitless war that sapped the military strength of his country and a great deal of its will to use war as a tool of statecraft.”

  “War as a tool of statecraft? That’s immoral.”

  “Many rulers of Old Terra thought it quite legitimate.”

  “Barbarians.” I shivered and tied my robe’s sash tightly around my waist.

  Taqqa were ridden bareback, so I dressed in jodhpurs of a heavy, dark fabric. These were loose and fashioned in a cloth we called demin, after a similar material the Progenitors had brought. I do not usually wear blue, but demin is a useful and long-wearing substance. I matched it with a crisp white blouse and, at Storne’s request, a cape. Of fur-lined demin, the cape had belonged to my mother, and so it featured an upstanding ruff-like collar. The collar, also lined with the silvery fur, would keep my neck warm.

  After breakfast Storne led me to the Darksiders’ encampment, situated a little away from mine, to afford room for the taqqa to graze. Already their tents, fashioned from brown hide and heavy canviss gray and frayed from use, were struck, rolled, and strapped to the big beasts, while Storne’s knights, kitted out in light half-armor and chain mail, bustled about, preparing for the day’s ride.

  The DarkDwellers, seeming giants to me, greeted me with respect, ducking their heads shyly. Whether their reticence was real or pretended, I did not know, but I sensed a great deal of curiosity. Many superficially resembled Storne, being tall, dark-haired and pale of face, and I wondered if they were his clansmen. All were light-skinned or florid in complexion, though their hair varied in color and length. Some Darksiders had silvery hair but did not appear aged, an unusual and attractive feature.

  We reached Storne’s taqqa, its reins held by a junior equerry, a stripling clad in an overtunic of black embroidered with the sigil of Storne’s clan. Unlaced, it revealed a chainmail jerkin beneath. Storne said, “Audryn, may I present my youngest brother, Maersan.”

  Having had no prior knowledge that any of Storne’s close kin had accompanied him, I gasped. “I did not know. How may I make you welcome, sir?”

  Maersan blushed red all the way from chin to forehead. He had long, lank ash-brown hair and spotty skin. “L-lady, you need not. My place is in camp, learning my duties.”

  “Maersan has but ten starturns,” Storne said. He took a pair of gauntlets from his brother and slipped on the left one, tucking the other into his belt.

  “I understand.” In the manner of all nobility, including me, Maersan trained until he was of age. I continued, “But let us know when you are free to join us for a meal or two. I should like to know you better.”

  Maersan ducked his head. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  The taqqa snorted and stamped, seizing my attention. ’Twas a massive beast, shaggy-haired and smelly but bearing signs of recent currying, for its hooves were clean and its furry hide free of mats and tangles. I looked up, up, up to its huge head, crowned with long, viciously sharp horns. A war-beast, it wore a breastplate that jingled softly with each movement.

  Storne vaulted onto his taqqa, landing neatly behind its great hump. He slid back, making a place for me, and stretched a hand down in my direction.

  I swallowed my fear and reached up, but there was a clear foot of space between our hands. Behind me I heard a diffident cough. “May I?” asked Maersan.

  “Yes.” I breathed deeply, consciously relaxing, and he set his hands around my waist and lifted me with surprising ease. For a slender young man, he was quite strong.

  Reaching between the folds of my cape, Storne gripped my torso beneath the arms and swung me over the taqqa so that I straddled its hump, facing the beast’s head. He then pulled me down so I nestled against him behind the hump, which, though large, did not impede my view of the road ahead.

  Maersan handed the reins up to Storne while I eyed the taqqa. “Bridles but no bits,” I said.

  “They will go in whatever direction their heads are turned.” Storne set a gauntleted hand on my left hip, where it remained, a constant and heavy reminder of his strength. He held the beast’s reins on the right. I squirmed and my pussy ground pleasurably into the taqqa’s hump.

  “Ah,” he breathed into my ear. “You have discovered why riding is such a popular pastime among our women.”

  I leaned against him, his solid torso warm against my back while I hitched my hips forward again. He twitched the reins and the taqqa started to move to the head of the Darksiders’ procession. When the taqqa walked, its muscled back worked, and each bunch and clench aroused me all the more.

  “Take the reins,” Storne said.

  Turning my head, I cast him a startled glance.

  He smiled. “Don’t worry.”

  I obeyed, and he slipped his free hand beneath my cape, closing it in the front. Then unbeknownst to others, he unbuttoned my blouse to roam and explore my body. I had not worn a chemise or corset beneath my jodhpurs or shirt, and my breasts swung freely or were cupped in Storne’s palm while I handled the taqqa’s reins, my clit rubbing against the taqqa’s hump.

  We rode together to the head of the Darksider group, then forward farther through the horses ridden by the Children of Light. I managed to greet Kaldir with some semblance of courtesy even though my body was afire.

  He was clearly jealous. “Shall you ride with me tomorrow, Queen Audryn?”

  Storne’s hand clenched around my right breast and his fingers plucked the nipple. I stifled a gasp. “Of course.” I smiled at Kaldir. “It would be a pleasure to again ride one of your peerless mounts.”

  “I’m your peerless mount,” Storne murmured into my ear.

  “Not yet,” I muttered, turning the taqqa’s head. I wanted to head the procession, which was my right.

  “It’s solely a matter of time passing and we both know it.”

  “I am not ready to make a choice.”

  His hand dropped, unbuttoned my waistband and shoved inside, searching for my mound. “Your body is.”

  “My body has been ready to make a choice for several starturns,” I said with exasperation.

  He worked his hand toward my female flesh, already plump and damp. “Have you remained naked for me?”

  I guessed he wondered if my pussy were still completely shaved. “Yes,” I said. “Can’t you tell? I find it…stimulating.”

  “I dream of my mouth on your sweet clit.”

  My body jerked. I was close to coming.

  “I want to lick you. Suck you. Push my tongue inside you. Feast upon you until you scream.”

  I wantonly ground against the taqqa’s hump and Storne’s hand left my pussy to pluck the ot
her nipple. His mailed fingers tightened on my hip, pulling me back into the cradle of his outspread thighs. I could feel his cock pushing into my crack, nestling in the cleavage left by the demin jodhpurs.

  We were riding between groups now, having left behind the DesertDwellers but not yet reaching my retainers. “We’re alone,” I said.

  “Yes, we are.”

  I turned my head to regard him again. “I could not stop you from taking me.”

  He smiled. “You’ll come to me.”

  Still so damn arrogant. I twitched restlessly. “I want to come now.”

  “Lovely… Hot and impatient.” He stripped off his left gauntlet and shoved it in his belt next to the other one.

  “Just the way you want me, I am sure.”

  He laughed. “I’m not a monster, you know.” Using his big body, he forced me forward so my body from pussy to breasts rested against the taqqa. He spurred the beast into a gallop. “I won’t make you suffer,” he growled into my ear.

  I sprawled atop the taqqa’s back, helpless as it thundered through the forest. The vibrations from its pounding hooves rolled through my body, heightening my arousal. Storne leaned forward so he was covering me. Gripping my hand and the taqqa’s reins in his right hand, he jammed his left between our bodies inside my loosened waistband, seeking my naked cleft. He lifted me, pulled me back, and I could feel his heavy, hard length prodding me while his finger found my clit, slippery with my juices. He stroked and played with me and every touch drove me toward completion, fast and hard.

  I was trapped and he was controlling me as easily as he controlled his mount. Indeed, I felt as though he were mounting me. His weight atop me pinned me and his fingers wedged against my clitoris, irresistibly forcing jagged shards of pleasure that tore through my body.

  I writhed against him, twisting, and he caught my mouth with his as I came.

  Chapter Nine

  My southern keep lies close to the WestMarch and its wild weather, hence its name, Windrush Manor. As I guided my palomino mare toward it two days later, I could see strong breezes swirling around its turrets and towers, whipping the red-and-black banners of my house into flight. Gales roared through spires of the giant evergreens framing the manor walls, which were themselves dark granite edged with sandstone.